The Hole Inspector

The Hole Inspector Case Study #6

Jason and the Inspector's 6th case study. A spurned man becomes obsessed. Themes include big dicks, wanking, cocksucking, fucking, dildos, humiliation and - of course - fisting. Average reading time: 60 minutes.

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Ruined (i)

Occasionally I take on projects at extreme short notice, usually situations driven by lust or anger. Of course, those emotions tend to cloud our better judgments and sometimes I think my clients later regret their purchases. However, I always say contracts are final and can't be broken. Especially when they're `gifted' to someone who may never know who paid for their transformation. Or even be aware it's happening until too late...

That may sound morally reprehensible and utterly perverted, but who am I to argue with cold, hard cash? Take this case study for example. My client (who remained anonymous until the very end) called in heat and wanted me to start work immediately. How could I possibly refuse?

`I want him anally ruined for any future boyfriend.'

Fuck! That was the fateful phrase that caught my attention - until then I'd assumed this client was just one more nice guy who couldn't seal the deal, but when he uttered those words? I knew this engagement could be something else entirely. Years later, I still can't help but be turned on that someone dared to dream that high.

Obviously there are degrees of ruin but the explicit mention of future boyfriends showed just how deep and long-lasting my new client wanted to go. Evidently, he wanted this subject to no longer have the capacity to anally pleasure new partners. Now, with all my experience of stretching and big toys, I couldn't help but conclude this meant creating a hole so slack and loose that a regular-sized dick simply wouldn't touch the sides.

Is that truly possible the sceptics ask? Of course! It just needs the right amount of dedication and control. Sure, the hole is a muscle that can be trained like any other and even when made giant it can still form a wonderfully fleshy tunnel. However, this gig would require a completely different magnitude. A hole so mashed up that any normal guy would take one look and run away in fright.

I hope that doesn't shock, but what do you think anally ruined means?

I immediately started to ask my caller more detailed questions. He didn't want to give too much away but he did reveal he'd been a friend of the family for a long time. In fact, he'd watched the subject grow up. Our target had been a classic late-bloomer, taking a long time to come into his prime. When the teenager's growth spurt kicked-in it gave my client something very special to obsess over. Family pool parties went from being lack-lustre affairs one summer to a real eye-full the next.

My new client was avid in describing just how much the newly beefed-up subject had checked him out over the poolside (his words, not mine). Sensing an opening - the teenager's bubble butt couldn't be refused - he moved in and grabbed a fat handful of ass. Apparently, the subject was initially surprised but soon lead my client on, a teen-fuck unequivocally on the cards.

However, that's when things went south. My client pulled down his trunks, revealing his hard dick and moved in for the taking. I'll quote verbatim to capture his anger at what happened next. `I was all ready to spear the boy when the fucker said I must be joking. That he was the one who'd be doing the fucking, that he'd only ever be fucked by a guy bigger than him. Fuck that shit! He needs to be taken down! Ruined!'

I think you can feel my client's rage, however, it left me with a real dilemma. He hadn't given me anywhere near enough information to know whether his goal was possible, but he was so furious he wanted me to start right away. Now, with unlimited funding and every expense fully taken care of. Was I in or out?

Obviously - because you're reading this - I said yes. However, it took me a long while to piece together the complete backstory and formulate a successful masterplan.

My first stop was watching the boy from the touchline. I knew he was a jock but as I saw him perform I breathed a sigh of relief. My client had absolutely been telling the truth about the subject's physical gifts. He was a real firecracker, although I was surprised at how short and compact he was. Sure, a gorgeous musculature and beautiful bubble butt, but the majority of his hormones seemed to have gone into growing his bulge. In fact it was obvious from the way his shorts shifted that he had serious junk to spare.

This was all good news to me. If he was hung then we already had a powerful corrupting agent on side - after all, dick is at the heart of every teenage male's psyche. Size, shape, how many times they'd fucked...

My hunch was confirmed by overhearing a couple of the boy's teammates critique his performance from the sidelines. Apparently, he'd been quite the popular jock before his growth spurt had kicked-in. Star athlete and all, someone to aspire to be (and not a threat, given the size of his cock) but then his junk had unexpectedly caught up with the rest of his growing body. That meant his popularity had totally tanked - now he had way too much going on and aspiration had turned to jealousy.

Reading between the lines, I gathered what should have been a source of confidence - his donkey schlong - soon became a source of concern. Apparently, he'd diligently pursued a bunch of cheerleaders but whenever they felt him up they always ran away in shock.

You heard that Cindy said there was no way she was going to 3rd base with a dick that big? Yeah, he's a fucking freak' was just one of the remarks I heard. Have you seen it?' was the next, whispered with such curious intent that it made me wonder just what was going down in his locker room? Obviously, fearful of his big-dicked reputation, our subject had started to hide his natural assets... even showering long after practice when the changing rooms were empty.

Of course, I knew enforced abstinence and cock-hiding must have made him horny as fuck. He was a spunked-up teenage male! I bet he could have won olympic level wanking competitions but that would just made him even more desperate to unload for real. If girls couldn't solve his problem then maybe it was time to widen the field?

All these snippets of information meant I soon had it all mapped out. How he'd always had a vague appreciation for the male body - an uncertain queer feeling in the back of his head - but til now he hadn't done anything with it. However, being constantly denied by his female targets spurred him on. Now he wasn't just fantasising about lifting up a cheerleader's skirt, finding her naked slot and sliding in, but doing it to a guy. A hole was a hole, right?

I reckon that mindset must have been what captured my client's attention. The subject was open to releasing his hormones, and therefore anything was possible. You can easily picture it? A big-dicked boy desperate to fuck but caught in the high-testosterone environment of his team's changing rooms and unwilling to reveal his gay leanings. That meant he would take any opportunity to cast his eye, not least at a `safe' family pool party. He'd ended up appraising my client as a potential, but probably turned him down as too old, too musty, too queer. But then his ass got grabbed, wires got crossed, both men expecting to fuck the other. Then the subject saw a perfectly regular dick eager to take his hole and he dismissed it out of hand. With all the brash confidence of youth, he laughed. No deal. In retrospect, even if he were hung, did he have to be so cocky and entitled about having the bigger junk?

The more I understood, the more I wondered if I cared? As profit goes, being spurned is a big ticket item. The budget on this number was unlimited - all we had to do was provide regular updates to the client and ensure he got to fuck the boy once we were done. Fine by me.

As I talked the project over with Jason we had no doubts this would be a significant undertaking - after all, we're talking life-changing alterations here. I'm glad to say my assistant was well up for the challenge, not least as he knew he'd be playing a pivotal role. He`d be the instigator, the seducer and the corruptor. Why? Because he was only a few years older than the subject and we bet he was everything the boy wanted to be. Muscular, taut, defined, stubbled, a great pelt of body hair... and (crucially) brazenly sexually confident. That was the X-factor that would always be on our side. Jason knew his place in the universe, our subject didn't. Too many jeers, too many rejections, too many moments he'd hidden his junk under a limp towel.

Of course, it helped that Jason's dick was eye-wateringly thick, gut-bustingly long and had epoch-defying stamina. Just what was needed if we were going to do some permanent damage to the subject and fuck him into the ground. At this point we hadn't seen the subject's peen in the flesh - so to speak - but I had a feeling my assistant had him beat. If not, we'd just have to get creative.

Most importantly, I knew Jason's burgeoning understanding of human psychology would seal the deal. I'd hired him for his confidence and sexual energy, but what I'd come to realise was that under all that lay an alluring danger. Client after client, he was showing himself to be a brilliant manipulator. To be honest, if he wasn't so interested in the baser elements in life - sex, sex and more sex - he could be at the UN negotiating peace deals. However, that wasn't his pleasure. Fucking with someone's head and hole though?

We on agreed the subject's vulnerabilities then and there. The size of his dick, his lack of experience and his apparent inability to complete. That meant Jason's path was simple. All my assistant had to do was catch the subject's eye, come on to him, get him excited and then--

`Oh... so you want me to do a bait and switch?'

Hot damn. This is exactly why Jason has proved to be such a great hire. He could intuit exactly what was expected and - crucially - see how it fitted into the bigger picture. I could tell the idea was already making him hard...

A few days later he reported back to say the seduction had gone entirely to plan. He'd caught the boy's eye - right from the touchline - and totally scored. I did say Jason has the swagger to do the job, right? Christ, he can pull off bottom slut like no other man alive - high-tops, long socks, short shorts, tank and he's a top's walking wet dream. Tall, muscular, and totally fuckable. Hell, I bet he even baby-oiled his muscles to have that enticing `fuck-me' shine in the floodlights. The subject honestly didn't stand a chance.

The boy had performed well and his sweat and energy were running high. He wanted to celebrate, to be rewarded for making the right moves, but the team shunned him off the pitch. By now, his outsized dick had made friendship almost impossible. That isolation gave Jason the perfect opportunity to step in - all he needed to do was give the boy some attention, flirt those big `come-hither' eyes, and the real game could begin.

Here's where I'm going to let Jason pick up the case study:

`Boss, strictly between you and me, I'd forgotten that sheer, raw energy you have before losing your cherry. When you're so desperate and so eager to give it away that you'll do anything? All I had to do was throw some ass cleavage and he was onto me. God, talk about sex-starved! After an initial fumble his hands were all over me, kissing and groping and grabbing, virtually licking my face off (though that was slightly a struggle for him, he's a real short dude).

Given everything we've talked about - how he'd been dissed by every girl he'd ever felt up - I was determined to make him feel wanted. My hands happily groped in return, not least the action in his shorts. I felt his big bulge and asked whether he wanted to fuck? I swear a squirt of precum blasted out as he said yes...

Of course, that's when I laughed and said biggest wins. Boss, you should have seen him smirk. I'd done just as we agreed, wearing a jock with a super-tight and reinforced front-panel so my cock was severely constrained - he had no idea what he was up against. He must have thought that now it was finally going to happen, to take a piece of pussy for himself. He knew exactly what he was packing - all those weeks and months of hiding in the changing rooms, of girls rejecting it - but now ass was in his reach.

I held out my hand. Deal, I asked?

Confident and as cocky as fuck, he shook my hand without thinking. He'd just won the match, what did he have to lose? That's when he lowered his shorts, pulled out his schlong and looked so fucking proud of himself.

Jesus. You should have seen it, Boss. I've seen a lot of dick in my time, but his is something real special. A super-fat stalk with the skin pulled back so far from his helmet that dildo-manufactures would fucking weep to have him as a life model... he's got nothing on me though.

Is that it?' I laughed, beginning to demolish him. You'e so fucking short and yet your dick is so fucking thick, Jesus, you're a freak of nature!' He quickly tried to cover himself up but I told him not to be such a pussy. That's when I hauled out my own.

Fuck, Boss, you should have seen his eyes drop, it was almost cute. That tight jock I'd been wearing had kept me so constrained that he no idea what I was packing. I sprung free with so much force it thwacked my abs. He immediately knew I had him beat, though I'm not sure that was from my size or the spray of my dickjuice that ended up splashing across his shrivelling junk. I guess he was scared. His face had dropped in shock and that's when he tried to back out.

`Sweet Jesus, you must be fucking kidding me! There's no way I can take that' he said, or something to that effect. I said a deal's a deal, but he moved away. I kept on reeling him in though, saying how hot I thought he was, how much I wanted to play with him.

That's when I gave him a glimmer of hope.

I said maybe there wasn't so much in it (a brazen lie but he was so desperate to protect his cherry from my cock that he totally ran along with it) and maybe all he needed was a tiny bit of help?

That's when I pulled my sweats back up - no need for me to be undressed any longer, right? - and I reached inside my pocket for a cock ring. I did it all so smoothly that it was a long while before he realised he was the only one that was naked and on show.

You know, I'm glad you told me to take a few sizes with me. Even with your expert eye his shaft was way thicker than it looked on the field. I reckon I chose the right one though, even if he was way confused when I held it up. As the steel glinted in the floodlights I honestly don't think he knew what it was - I had to explain in detail how it would help make his junk even bigger. Maybe big enough to fuck me?

I knew this was the moment Boss. He could have walked away - stormed away - but something kept him in check. Maybe the way I'd held one arm on his shoulder the entire time? That, for the first time in his life, he felt wanted? I don't know for sure - I'm still learning these things - but I handed him the ring and told him to put it on.

Of course, he was absolutely lost. `Don't know how?' I asked, making a big deal of saying there's nothing quite like experience. I grabbed his thick junk before he had time to react and manhandled it like a beast needing to be tamed. Relax, I said, I just need to thread your junk through this hole...

As the steel was way too small for him and I made a big show of roughing his dick and balls up. It must have been really painful although the touch of another man's hands on his meat was making him super-hard again. That's when I got testy. `This isn't working at all. God knows why - this is the standard size for boys your age. It should fit. It must be because your balls are so backed up. I reckon you need to cum.'

`What, here?' he asked, shocked.

Hey, you were the one who was feeling me up' I replied, what's the difference?'

Of course, he stood like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Come on, what's the matter?' I asked. Don't tell me you haven't wanked in public before? You're a big boy, get on with it! Stroke a load out for me.'

I've got to say it was pretty hot, Boss. Not least as it must have been so humiliating for him to jerk off in front of a guy he'd only just met! However, we both knew he was super sensitive about the size of his junk and he was determined not to lose face (or his cherry!) so he had to win.

Eventually - just - he managed it, even if it was a real fine balance to help him along. Threats (I thought you wanted to fuck me?'), verbal humiliation ('come on, a big boy like you should be able to shoot on command, what's wrong with you? Maybe you don't have a dick after all, just a little dicklet') and persuasion (did you see the pre on my helmet? What do you imagine it tastes like? Good?'). After a long while yanking his prick he grunted and his teenage spunk fired out in giant ropes. Pretty sweet.

His dick deflated real quick and I wasted no time slipping his junk through the tiny ring. However, even before I managed to squeeze his balls through his cock was swelling up again. Even flaccid he looked so engorged that I knew I'd chosen the right size - there was no way that fucker would be coming off without a bolt cutter!

Of course, I told him how hot and sexy his junk looked. He kind of smiled before looking sheepish - only then did he realise he was still naked and pulled up his shorts. That's when I casually asked if he still wanted to fuck? Even given his steel-induced erection his horn was completely lost but (seeing his defeat) that's when I said it was my turn.

Fuck! You should have seen him yanking his prick trying to get hard, it was fucking hilarious! Much as I wanted to pork his butt right there and then, I stuck to the plan. I told him not to worry, that it was a shame he couldn't reload so soon after cumming, but my butt was still ready. All he had to do was keep the cock ring on so he'd get as big as possible. He could still seal the deal...

Before he had time to realise what that meant, I kissed him deep on the lips, got his number and said I'd see him in a few days. I stepped away but turned back one last time to say how much I was looking forward to him fucking me. Or me fucking him... that was the agreement.'

It's a real testament to just how quickly Jason can make an impact that he was able to exert so much control so quickly. The promise of sex with him was not to be missed. Everything was going according to plan.

Ruined (iI)

Of course, what came next was absolutely critical. The subject had to get fucked, no matter how much he believed his big dick gave him top rights. However, we'd only be able to meet our client's instructions if we had some fun with it along the way, playing on the edges of his masculinity for as long as possible. Was he a willing bottom or unrequited top? A cum-crazy, slack-jawed, hole-gaping, sex-addict or big-dicked power-fucker that simply didn't get his chance in life?

Given I'm writing this case study, I think you know exactly how it ends. However, let's not dismiss what's at stake here. We had to ensure the subject's first `real' sexual encounter was so powerfully disabling that he'd never be the same again. An experience so destabilising that sexual corruption would be his only comfort blanket forevermore, so intense it could never be dialled back.

Right now though, the subject still had high hopes he was going to screw my assistant's muscular butt, that he was still all top. And yet... the relentless ring of steel engorging his dick told a very different story, a story that laid the groundwork for his eventual ruin.

Jason held back from contacting the boy for as long as possible, ignoring each and every one of his texts and messages. Even the ones saying his cock hurt and was massively swollen. And purple. Oh, and that everyone at school was laughing as they could see every detail of his monster schlong all the time, no matter how much he tried to hide it. It must have pure torment.

That meant Jason's eventual reply must have felt like manna from heaven. `Let's meet. Your place. Friday 6pm' Unequivocal, no room for questions or doubt. Even then, my assistant said the subject took an eternity to reply. three dots bouncing up and down, up and down, showing just how conflicted he was. The terms of their bet had been unequivocal: largest dick fucked, smallest had their guts rearranged. How else do you think Jason had got the boy to wear such an under-sized cock-ring for so long? Now he had a choice though. Accept Jason's invitation and have his cock released but risk his first sexual experience being on the receiving end? Or turn Jason away and suffer his dick being swollen for even longer, whilst missing out on the opportunity to lose his virginity and fuck a hot jock into the ground?

Of course, teenager hormones demanded he said yes and that's how my assistant ended up on the subject's doorstep one hot night in early June. This may have felt inevitable but Jason had a very tough mission. Sure, his gigantic fuckslab would win virtually any size contest, but his job as top had to go far deeper. He had to convince the boy that any discomfort he experienced next wasn't Jason's fault, no, more his own failings as a bottom. Basically, the subject needed to be intensely humiliated by the size of his hole versus the size of dick fucking him.

Simple, right? I'll let Jason pick it up from here.

`Christ, the weather really was on our side last night. Sultry and sweaty, especially around sunset when we met. His parent's house is pretty plush, pretty conservative too. Somehow I think there's going to be a reckoning for our guy when we're done on this project. He's not going to be their blue-eyed boy for much longer...

He did look mighty fine when he opened the door though. I don't know whether he'd just got back from practice or whether he was dressing to impress but you know me, Boss... a tatty, over-tight tee, cut-off sweats and high-tops always make me hard. He looked so damn fuckable, and yet so goddamn innocent! (Well, except for the totally obscene cock outline in his shorts...)

I could sense his anticipation and anguish, so I helped him along by leaning in and snogging him deep, full frontal. It caught him completely off guard but he gave in fast. Soon his tongue was at the back of my throat, he was that hungry, doorstep be damned. I bet he could have gone on forever but he yelped when I grabbed his crotch and squeezed his swollen dick.

`Oh, it's like that is it? You'd rather take it up the arse than fuck me?'

Christ, you should have seen his face. He blushed with such confused indignation that Pantone could trademark that fucking colour! I didn't give him a moment to deny it before I swept past, forcing him to take me from the glamour of his parent's grand hallway to the sanctity of his teenage bedroom. Boss, I'm so glad we decided this should be the scene of his downfall rather than an anonymous truck-stop or school changing rooms. I could honestly feel his embarrassment and hesitation as he showed me the bed he'd wanked and had countless wet dreams in...

He soon tried to regain control though, trying to assert himself as the top he still dreams to be. He pushed me against the bed whilst simultaneously pulling down his shorts to reveal his massively engorged dick, the steel ring glinting in the light. He stood with his hands on his hips, pushing his cock into my face, willing me to say he had the bigger dick. Man! His dick was so swollen and hard that it looked fucking ready to burst! God knows how he'd managed to survive carrying that swollen beast around for so long.

I reached forward and severely manhandled his taut handful, all under the pretence of enthusiastic foreplay (of course). I could tell he wanted to welcome my touch but it didn't take long before he was wincing and pulling away, plaintively asking me to take the ring off.

I resisted, asking whether he was really sure? After all, he looked so hot wearing it, all hard and ready to fuck. Maybe the steel meant he had me beat? He rushed to grab a ruler off his desk and held it against his engorged teenage junk, begging me to record his size and release him at the same time. He said how unbearable school had been these last two days. Everyone - girls, jocks, teachers, even the janitors - had been checking him out and laughing at his junk. I mean, a cock that big and thick does look pretty freakish on a boy his height. Unnatural, even. Especially when it's trapped by a cock-ring two sizes too small.

I reeled off his measurement but said I couldn't see what he was complaining about. Sure, his penis looked a bit angry but if he wasn't prepared to let his teen-cock keep growing then he must really want to get fucked in the ass? That made him a pussy in my eyes.

Before he had a chance to react I reached in and tried to pull the ring off, but of course it was jammed tight. He howled in pain and protested, but that didn't stop me from trying my best. However, no matter how hard I tugged I couldn't get that fucker off. I shook my head and said it would be easier if his dick was soft for starters.

Without warning, I sunk down and took his thick piece in my mouth, swallowing him whole. God, cock-ring engorged teenage freak-meat tastes so fucking good! More importantly, even with my throat full I could tell from the way his toes curled up this was his first real blow job. However, given how fucking swollen and sensitive his dick was it must have been exquisite agony! I pulled out every trick I know, flicking my tongue over his piss slit, massaging his helmet with the back of my throat, cupping his balls, running my stubble over his sack, deep throating the length of his shaft, inhaling his cock to the base... fucking hell, I gave him the full works!

It was all slow and gentle though, I was determined to prolong his first full cock work-over for as long as possible, even though I could tell his teenage nuts were on a hair-trigger. Eventually he screamed and shot his boy-spunk deep in my mouth. It was fucking tasty but I continued to suck way past the last spurt. We all know how painful that can be...

I'm sure the intensity of his first `real' orgasm was something of a shock, but I think the real surprise was when I leant in and snowballed his cum. Given the way he puckered up and almost choked I think it was the first time he'd tasted spunk too.

`Nice, only real bottoms swallow their own cum' I said. By now he was totally off-balance and not horny at all, but me taking the bolt-cutters out of my bag completely freaked him out. If anything the sight made him even softer - how else did he expect me to get that ring off? It was a real struggle - thank god the cutter has a safety guard otherwise I might have taken his nuts with it - but eventually I managed it. The clang as it hit the floor was soon drowned out by the boy's massive sigh of relief, but that was followed by sighs of pain as he massaged his flaccid dick to get the circulation flowing again.

By now he was totally bushwhacked, but my dick wasn't going to quit that easily - I pulled my shorts down and grabbed his student ruler to measure myself up. Christ, I bet he'd had that ruler since the 6th grade but it had never measured anything so big. Or thick. Of course, I had him beat. He tried to push me away - saying he was tired, to try again another time, that he wasn't a bottom - but I pulled him up and said a deal was a deal. He'd lost the bet fair and square, now it was time for me to get my fuck.

He looked totally crushed. His manhood had been too big for all those girls but now it was too small to beat me. Was he really the man he thought he was? Seeing his confusion, I pulled his right hand out and placed it on my heavy meat. I forced him to grasp it, to feel its heat and heft, to know it was bigger than his...

I've got to say Boss, those super-concentrated blue pills of yours? The entire scene would have kept me erect but with your V-bombs I don't think I've ever been so fucking hard! My dick looked like a fucking club, a weapon of fuck. As he felt my weight and girth, his eyes slowly turned to acceptance. It must have been the first time he'd ever held another man's cock, but I knew it wouldn't be the last. Time to stir the pot.

`It's a real shame you lost, I bet you'd have enjoyed fucking me. Anyway... the way I see it is you're certifiably cherry and I'm here to take it. You are virgin, right?'

Boss, you would have loved it! The boy mumbled yes and I couldn't hold back. `I fucking knew it! All that dick on a man and yet he doesn't know how to fucking use it!'

So Boss, I won't bore you with all the details. You don't need to know how I pushed him back on his bed and spread his legs wide, right? I will say he has - had! - a gorgeous hole, super puckered and real tight. Definitely untouched, that's for sure. However, I knew he was scared as I positioned myself at the entrance to his pussy. I think, deep down, he still felt he was naturally all-top so I told him this moment would change him forever. That once a guy has taken it up the arse, everyone can tell. That real tops can even tell a pure-bred pussy just by the way they walked. That was what he wanted, right?

Man! Even with the amount of pre-fuck I spit out it was a real challenge getting my prick in, no matter how hard I pushed. It took some serious force, though I will say his hole did look fucking magnificent impaled on the first inch of my cock. Such a great stretch for his new cunt - I bet he'll never know just how lucky he is.

It was then he started whining about why I was doing this to him. Of course, I kept the real reason a secret and simply told him it was because he needed me and wanted my dick. He'd lost the bet, never mind if he thought he was a top. This was his new reality. Besides, what did he think sex was going to be like? Unicorns and rainbow dust? No, this is how real men fuck! It was a real struggle though and I had to hold him down the entire time. Even after 10 long, long minutes of shoving he'd only managed to take about half of my cock. That's when I moved in for the real steal though.

`Jesus, I've never had this much trouble fucking a guy before. What the fuck is wrong with your hole?'

Boss, you should have seen his face! I know you said to make him feel vulnerable but this totally did the trick. First I'd established he wasn't big enough to be a top, and now I was telling him he was a crap bottom. In his anguish he really did think it was all HIS fault he couldn't take me. He didn't need to know that washed out rent-boys struggle to take my dick too...

Luckily, his shock at my words meant I felt a momentary relaxing of his pussy. It was all the window I needed to slam my entire body down hard. Jesus, from the noises he made you would have thought he didn't want me to rob his cherry! From then, nothing was going to hold me back from fucking him hard - though I did have to repeatedly tell him to stop complaining - after all I'd had younger/smaller/bigger take my dick without hesitation... why was he making such a big deal out of it? After all, his dick was swelling up and getting leaky, and only a real pussy gets hard when fucked. Was he a real pussy?

(Never mind that my angle of attack meant I was banging his prostate like a man possessed. He was discovering things his youth hadn't prepared him for and I took every advantage going. You should have seen his face when I paused mid-fuck to swipe some of his errant pre-cum from the tip of his dick onto his lips. You could almost see him ask why his body was betraying him. Surely he couldn't be enjoying this?! Surely he wasn't getting pleasure from being pile-drived, could he?)

Much as I was enjoying the job, I've gotta say it was a relief when I finally shot my sperm into his guts. He's so fucking tight my dick almost got squeezed to death! I reckon he's blessed with such a small sphincter that I reckon it will take hundreds of hard fucks - each as painful as the first - for his ring to be stretched open. Don't worry, I know we don't pay attention to bullshit physical limits like that though - once done unloading I pulled out and got straight back to the script.

`Jesus, you're the tightest cunt I've ever fucked in my life... you must be a born bottom. I can't believe you actually wanted to fuck me - only pussies get hard from being fucked. Christ, I bet you'd cum right now if I...'

Yeah, he fucking well did! He was so full of teenage hormones and the first flush of sex that all it took was a few energetic pumps of my hand to bring him off. Should have seen that fucker's cum fly!

`Well, I guess that proves one thing...' I said, pulling back and reaching to get changed. Of course, he looked completely crest-fallen. What did this all mean? His barely legal mind didn't have the experience to comprehend so I turned the dials in opposing directions.

`Look... I think you could still have a big future as a top. Sure, you're dick ain't as big as mine, but that's okay because some guys like a small fuck. In fact, I reckon I'd still like to be fucked by you sometime. But for that to happen you're going to have to put some real effort in. You've bottomed once, that proves you've got the aptitude for it, but you're way too tight. If you want to get any pleasure from sex then your hole needs to be WAY bigger. The way you are now? Hell, no-one, and I mean, no-one is ever going to want you like this.'

He tried to babble and push back but I cut him down. What the fuck did he know? `I'm an experienced cocksman, what are you?'

I'm going to stop Jason's transcript for a moment to stop and reflect. This account must sound confusing. Does it really take one fuck to transform a top into a bottom? Of course not, but that's where the fun is! I knew as my assistant talked that he left out lots of details. How the boy must have felt excited by the attention of an older jock, how his strokes, massages and kisses must have made the boy feel loved - way, way beyond what he'd achieved with girls so far. Right now, Jason was his hero, his idol. Anything my assistant said right now - in the heat of the moment - was gospel. Anyway...

`I looked him deep in the eyes and reiterated the message. That he needed to listen carefully and take heed, that if he was ever going to give pleasure to other men then his pussy needed to be way bigger. That if he ever wanted a change of fucking me then he had to be able to easily take me. That's what he wanted, right? Even if it was a long way off given his poor performance tonight.

Boss, he looked pretty destroyed at this point, almost on the verge of tears. Not least at hearing me use words like pussy to describe his fuck-chute. It was all so hot that I almost wanted to lay in another fuck there and then. But, just as you taught me, that's when I switched it up another level.

I tenderly told him how proud I was he'd taken my dick, that taking his cherry had made me insanely happy. That it had to mean something special that he'd given it to me, right? It was the first compliment I'd paid him all night and boy did he take it to heart.

I don't want to be modest, Boss, but I really have fucked with his head. Seduced him, made him fall for me, and then completely destroyed his ass. I gently touched his cheek and asked whether he wanted more. Despite the pain, despite the humiliation, his teenage sex-crazed hormones spoke for him... though maybe he was just responding to my show of love, who cares?

I then looked deep between his eyes and intently asked whether he still wanted to fuck me. Seeing an out, he nodded his head and said `god, yes'.

I stopped my assistant and told him he'd done me proud. I was super happy with the job he'd done. My only question was whether he'd successfully moved onto the next phase of sexually destabilising the subject?

Ruined (iii)

Jason smiled his kilowatt grin. `What do you think, Boss?' he asked. I couldn't help but smile in response. We'd spent a long time talking about the next phase of the subject's development. How do you lock in gains from the very first fuck? How do you start making the changes we needed to make irreversible and permanent? By using a device I'd specially designed for situations like this. However, this was Jason's first time using it on a client and I was eager to hear how it had gone.

It was a version of the metal dildo we used in our previous case study. A 3D printed copy of Jason's dick - in solid metal and naturally upsized - connected to a steel anal harness and locking metal waistband. Think of it as reverse chastity - it was designed to keep a hole stretched open and wide. Probably the last thing in the world the subject was expecting right now, not least as he still had Jason's fresh cum leaking out of his hole.

`Man, you should have seen the boy's face when I pulled it out of my bag! He'd just said he still wanted to fuck me, but this couldn't have been part of his vision. Sure, he may have been inexperienced when it came to ass play but he couldn't have missed the implications of the device I held in my hands.

As I manhandled it across the bed I told him that wanting to fuck me was fine, but now he needed to prove it. Wearing this would show it. Yes, the cock ring had been okay to start with, but surely he could go the extra mile if he wanted me to give up my own ass?

That's when I said he had to trust me, trust me to know what was best. Besides, we'd already agreed that he was a crap shag, right? This would be his route out... it would give him a gentle stretch for a bit and then everything would be better. He did want to make his top proud, right?

I kept it light, but I kept up the pressure... if he didn't want to wear it then he had no chance of fucking me. Oh, and I'd let everyone know he was a crap shag. No good at either end. Too tight to take it, too soft to give it. Is that what he wanted? What he really wanted?

I didn't give him any time to reply and soon I was threading the metal cock inside his freshly fucked boy-hole. Lucky for him that I'd shot such a big load as my cum just about lubricated its passage. It felt pretty hot impaling him on a replica of my own dick though. Did you make it bigger though, Boss? And upsize my helmet and shaft veins? I didn't realise they're quite so pronounced...

Seconds later I snapped the metal waistband and jock harness to the metal dildo. The way he was wincing at the size of the invader? You'd think he knew this was the start of a life-long obsession with toys! Anyway, I told him to stop whining, he had me inside of him again, so that must be good?

By the way, I took your advice on giving him a pretend choice in his downfall. I held up the digital padlock and asked him how long he'd like to wear the harness for. He suggested 8 hours, basically overnight. Nowhere near long enough! I gave him a look of resigned disappointment, telling him I thought we'd agreed that stretching his hole is imperative if we're to have sex again. What good would only 8 hours do?! He looked so crushed when I said I thought he'd been serious about all this. That I'd been hoping he was better than that, maybe I should just take it out, that would be simpler...

Of course, he was so keen to fuck that he'd do anything, though I'm not sure he was expecting me to round it up to 24 hours. However, his first answer was such a low-ball that I said I had no choice.

He looked pretty lost at this point, squirming and trying to get comfortable. He kept on saying there was no he could get through the next day wearing it and that he felt like he was stretched to hell already.

Hush, hush,' I replied. Come on, I have way more confidence and faith in you than you have in yourself. I know for certain you can do this.' I then planted a big kiss on his soft lips and left.

Did I do okay, Boss?' asked Jason.

I told my assistant he'd done a brilliant job. He was telling me all this the morning after and all I could think about was the boy walking around with Jason's replica dick locked inside of him. Enforced cunt stretching was a really important part of our plan, so to hear it had gone off without a hitch was great. The fact that for a full day the subject wouldn't be able to walk around without limping was neither here nor there. Those in the know will think he'd been fucked by a truck! And everyone else will suspect it...

Can you imagine his week? The first few days wearing that cock ring and looking like a sex-fiend with his freakish dick fully outlined under his pants, and now forced to wear a toy that meant he'd hardly be able to walk straight. Or sit down. All that time - as the insults rained down - he won't just be stretched, his arse will be chafing and rubbing raw. Jesus, I get hard just thinking about it!

Cruel? Maybe? But if we were going to meet our client's goals it was an important and very necessary step. Hell, I bet that metal dick would be the subject's best friend before long. However, it's worth remembering our mission: anal ruination to the extent that the subject would be rejected by any future sexual partner. Well, at least the loving, regular ones. Our goal was literally to drive men away with the size of his pussy. The metal dick holding it open was an important first step.

You might be wondering what kind of guy was capable of planning and executing such a sick and twisted plan, let alone be paid for it. Fuck off, please! We're doing a favour to this kid - we're helping him fulfil his destiny as a cunt. By all rights he should be thanking us - there's not that many people out there who have the talent, dedication or perseverance to up-skill someone like this.

I can't deny that Jason and I got a kick out of it too. That unique pleasure of looking down at a hole that's been blown out of all proportions and knowing you're responsible for it? It's such a fucking head rush!

Those 24 hours of having a giant metal dick inside his cum-drenched pussy had to come to an end eventually though. Of course, I'd told Jason he had to be there to help the boy out of his harness and show a little bit of love, some tender loving care in fact.

I knew he'd been compassionate enough to end the previous night with a series of text messages. How proud he was of the boy. That wearing the small' harness showed just how much he cared for him and wanted to be fucked. Oh, and all the standard not long to go' type stuff through the day...

However - of course - there was no reason why the big unlocking couldn't have an extra dollop of humiliation thrown in. Can you imagine a man you're infatuated with unhooking a replica of his dick - one that had been brutally held inside of you for the last 24 hours - and then being asked whether you realised just how empty you'd feel once it was removed. Barren, even?

I'd told Jason he had to let the digital padlock timer fully countdown to zero, no matter how much the bottom was squirming. If there was time to go then he could fill the dead air with talk of past conquests. Bottoms who had wanted to eject the harness but had been so scared of being empty that they'd wanted to keep it inside of them forever... but to then shrug his shoulders and say that he guessed that wasn't the case today.

My assistant would then have to go deep. I told him that he needed to build the subject back up. To thank him for his dedication and to say he would get what he deserved after the unforgiving metal dildo was removed.

I knew that it would feel like a ceremony: the electronic bleep as the padlock released itself, the metal-on-metal sound as the waistband was unlocked, the harness unhooked from the solid steel replica of Jason's dick. Then the pulling out of the dildo itself, no doubt accompanied by the sounds of sloppy and feeble resistance from the cunt itself, gamely held open for so long. Then tenderness as the boy was cleaned up, before sighs of appreciation as my assistant inspected what he had created. So far.

`My god, boy. I think we've done some good work here! Your hole is looking mighty fine! You were so fucking tight yesterday, but now? Now you look like the perfect fuck! Christ, I bet my dick could slide in there easy as apple pie!

Now, don't fight it boy, I can see you clenching your ring and puckering up. Just let yourself relax... that's it! That's so fucking hot! 24 hours of my cock inside of you has opened you right up! Sure, it's just a beginner's gape at the moment, but that doesn't mean it's not calling out, begging for more. Of course, you'll close up in time, but that means we'll just have to work even harder to keep it open. Just like a pussy, always ready to be fucked. And now you've proven you can take me for a full day, we can do some proper endurance work, right? Christ, you're making me so fucking horny. Look at my dick, see how hard it is? It wants your fucking hole! It's the best pussy it's seen in years!'

What will the boy be feeling right now? Shock at the unfamiliar words? Outrage at what's been done to him? Or twisted pride at Jason's lust? That this muscle stud really wanted him?!

What came next was of critical importance. It had to be a fuck so good that it would light a fire under the boy's ass for all eternity. It would be the exact opposite of yesterday's struggle. No, this fuck would be full of tenderness and passion. And lube. Where previously there had been friction, now Jason had to make his entry as slick and as smooth as possible. He almost had to glide into the boy's ass. (Of course, the subject being held open for so long will help in that regard. But so can a generous dose of rimming, the extravagant use of poppers and a bucket full of Boy Butter.)

Done right, the subject would take Jason's giant prick and experience all the joy of a home run. The feeling of thick dick sliding in and out of his hole would make the boy realise exactly what he's been missing. That his hole really had been empty without cock inside of it. That it feels so good - so right, so natural - to be stretched by a man's dick, no matter how big. The most perfect feeling in the world. Where once there had been pain, now there would be pleasure. Once resistance, now acceptance. Once stretched, now loose. Once puckered, now corrugated...

And all of it to the soundtrack of the boy being told just how amazing his hole felt around the top's dick. How it caressed and loved the big meat sliding in and out of it. So good that Jason wanted to fuck it all night, over and over again. How much better it was now that they'd started to stretch it... how much all of Jason's friend's would love tapping that hole now it had been opened up.

Wait, what was that last part? Never mind.

Maybe that's when the stroke gets harder and faster, not to distract the boy, but because a hard fuck shows you really love someone, right? As I say, deeply manipulative stuff. This had to be the fuck of a life time, a fuck that would set the subject up for a lifetime of fucking! The floodgates would open and the boy would be impregnated deep and good, his pussy filled with spunk. It should feel like such sweet relief, especially if the boy's own cum is fucked right out of him at the same time. Prostate banging, a reach around, the subject jerking his own dick - whatever it takes!

It needed to end with a long embrace, sensuous even. Something to really seal in the boy's fate. So mellow, so smooth, so loving that the boy would eventually forget his own desire to fuck. Being used had made him content, satisfied... however, I told my assistant not to stay the night and to leave with a sense of doubt in the air. It could be as simple as saying see you around kid... maybe' or that was a sloppy ride, not sure when I'll need it again' or `I thought you liked me boy, the least you can do is hold my cum in, that's the least you can do if you want to fuck me'. Something that left imbalance. Has he really done a good or bad job?

Of course, Jason left the toy behind. Odds are, the subject will keep on wearing it.

Jason later told me it all went exactly to plan. He did throw in a nice touch though - the next morning he sent a photo message. An image of the subject's hole in exquisite detail. Sure, he'd described the boy's new hole to the subject the previous night, but seeing it for yourself made it stunningly real.

Pink, puffy, open, leaking cum.

Jason told me he timed it to arrive just when the boy sat down for breakfast. With his parents around of course. His shock at the notification must have been a real picture. Was that hole really his?! His face was in shot so it must be. Fuck! The accompanying message simply read `Thanks for such a sweet fuck! I'm thinking of you x'

It was the perfect destabiliser to keep messing with the subject's head.

Ruined (iv)

After that text message life only got more intense for our subject. You know that, right? Even the most casual reader of these case studies would appreciate how quickly we picked up the pace of his corruption from then on. We never stand still.

From that first fuck it quickly graduated to more. The subject was soon hooked on sex and Jason's attention. A regular after school affair soon graduated to the boy sleeping over at Jason's plush apartment and experiencing his mule cock at least three times a night. Once before bedtime, once in the morning and once whilst he was sleeping (when he'd be woken by the agonising thrust of Jason lining his cockhead up with his twat and plunging in deep). Actually, it didn't take long before we moved the boy into Jason's apartment - it made everything so much easier if we had access to his hole 24/7.

Now, you may wonder how we managed that so smoothly? Surely the subject protested? How could any young adult willingly submit to this kind of arse-action, not least if he still held onto the dream they were a top? And wouldn't his parents step in and prevent him moving in with his `boyfriend'? Too early, too soon, too presumptive?

However, let's not forget how much of a catch Jason was. For all his sheer animal magnetism he polished up fucking well. He could charm anyone he wanted, parent, grandparent or social worker - getting the subject into his residence was considerably easier than you'd imagine. Not least as the boy was smitten. That was all down to Jason's compliments and touches of seduction, matched only by the expansive city views of his luxury loft apartment. It all fitted together, and who cared that the affection was manufactured, or that the space was entirely paid for by our client?

Infatuation aside, the other way we kept the subject's top dignity' on point was keeping the possibility of fucking Jason real and alive. Of course, my assistant never voluntarily bought it up, but if the boy did, then the answer was always the same. How do you expect to fuck if you don't know what it's like to be fucked yourself?'

That simple response dealt with every situation, no matter how complex. Pain from being fucked too deep? You need to experience it. Sore from being stretched too wide? You need to know it. Swollen from all the friction? You need to feel it. It was all part of his education and a necessary one at that. We had to keep up an exceptionally rigorous fuck routine to meet our client's demands, one that soon was no longer restricted to just Jason... that meant a few weeks in and we really ratcheted up his fuck count.

Even then, the boy's first threesum must have come as a surprise, even if it happened so fast that the subject didn't have a chance to complain. Jason played it masterfully, a hunky muscular dude arriving one evening whilst they were mid-fuck. The boy was shocked at first but soon he was sucking the other guy's gorgeous dick whilst Jason continued to plough his hole. Of course they swapped positions so the other top could get the benefit of the boy's pussy too, ass to mouth.

Soon, threesums became the norm. Jason always arriving home with another hung top, or more. If the boy complained then my assistant simply told him to stop whining. He'd taken it before so why was this time any different?

Then Jason's `friends' started turning up without him, demanding to be serviced. At first, the subject was petulant, saying they must be out of their minds. In fact, the boy even phoned Jason up whilst he was being door-stopped by a horny stranger. Of course, the boy got sweet talked, saying it would be rude to deny Jason's friends a chance to fuck the boy he loved so much. Besides, how else would they know just how juicy the boy's hole was? They couldn't simply take his word for it, right? The boy should be proud of how good his hole was. And if guilt-tripping didn't work then the threat of Jason withdrawing his love constantly hung over the boy. It was a threat he wasn't prepared to risk.

Whilst all of this may have felt random (and unexpected) to the subject, it was all coldly calculated. We were determined to slowly redefine his sense of worth - no longer centred around his jock muscles - but now based on the number of fucks he was getting per day. This was all reinforced by the clothes we forced him to wear, clothes that clearly signalled he was a walking pussy, built for taking cock.

As part of the move into Jason's apartment we'd given him a healthy allowance to spend on whatever clothes he desired - usually street wear with the kind of brand names young guys find appealing, real wide-boy gear. However, all of it kept mysteriously disappearing or got so stained it ended up out of commission. Deliberately. Jason loved wiping his used dick, fresh from the subject's cum-laden arse, on any gear the subject had lovingly bought and cherished.

This meant the only clothes the boy had left was the stuff he'd found lying in the corner of his closet when he arrived. Jason explained they were cast-offs from an ex and the boy was welcome to them, but somehow that didn't make accepting them any easier. If you still harbour the dream of being a top then wearing a pink pussy-power t-shirt was definitely a struggle. So were the `I love cock' shredders and the crotch-worn down high-rise shorts. And the sequinned thongs and leather bottom harnesses.

At first he was repelled at the more kinky stuff, but his curiosity soon got the better of him. You can't be around constant sex for that long - tops in all shapes and sizes, wearing all sorts of freaky shit - without getting an urge to look the same and fit in.

All of this was absolutely crucial to turning him out as a sex object. The big secret to anal ruin? You can't achieve it unless the subject is gagging for it. They may not know it, they may need to be taught it, they may even need to have it hammered into them a thousand times, over and over, but deep down? It's inescapable and can't be avoided. Ever.

This explains how Jason got so very good at `catching' the subject at inopportune moments. Butt cheeks willingly held wide by chafing sequins, slugs of cum running down his legs, spunk oozing between his separated pussy folds. Or freshly back from the school corridors and mortified at just how many students had stared at the (still) obscene outline of his cock pressed inside his shorts? Never mind this was all aided by our wardrobe selection and the constant low-levels of Viagra in the subject's protein supplements. Or that teenage hormones can be so cruel...

This was all to our advantage - perhaps he was hard so often as he didn't get to use his cock all that much? By now he must have been experiencing some serious backing up of his balls. If Jason caught him hard then he made a big play out of just how horny the boy must be, how much he must want to be fucked. Inevitably, that meant he would play with the boy's meat (it really was a delightful handful and always smelt of teenage funk), As he lavished the thick shaft with attention he made sure to say how much he bet the boy would love to fuck him, to use his ass, to cum inside of a real man. To feel it for himself.

Of course, this insanely turned the subject on, not least the suggestion that the time when he got to fuck Jason was coming - real soon. His desire and the extended build up meant the subject simply couldn't hold back from shooting in ecstatic relief, giant slugs of cum defiling his room. At which Jason would grab one of the jock's premier clothes, wiping down the cum and quickly saying `my turn!', piling in with his own hard dick before the boy had a chance to protest.

I'm not sure the subject ever realised all this was studiously deliberate. He was only allowed to cum so he'd then be forced to endure a savage fucking without relief. A fuck is always appreciated more just after you've already ejaculated, right? It was in these most extreme moments - when the subject was screaming and raging against's Jason's punishing dick - that my assistant got most carried away:

`You're my hole, you're my bitch, my slut... your legs and ass are the pussy lips I spread to fuck and breed my cock. Your hole is mine to play with and do with as I wish...'

No matter how extreme Jason got, or how concerned the subject's questioning afterwards, my assistant always told him not to worry, it was just role play, fantasy-talk, nothing more. He then showered the boy with affection and compliments: you're getting there, you're close, that he appreciated the effort the boy was putting in to getting fucked, better than any fuck-boys he'd had before. Soon enough he'd be ready...

However, this show of love, sympathy and enthusiasm was always kept off-balance by the arrival of one of Jason's friend's for a blow-job or pump-and-dump.

Other times, Jason would leisurely wank the boy off immediately after they'd fucked, though it always ended as a ruined orgasm. Jason would pretend not to notice the time passing until it was too late - just as the boy was about to climax - he'd stop and say they needed to shift. Somehow the subject always had no choice but to stuff his hard and unsatisfied meat into some over tight shorts and walk out of the apartment and into a leather bar with a very distinctive waddle (swollen dick and open hole: not an easy combination.)

Of course, all this time the subject was totally banned from touching his dick - on threat of it being locked in permanent chastity. Or forced to wear the anal harness again. It had been punishing enough the first time, but now? The size would only get bigger. He kept his hands well away.

However, we also told him that abstinence was good for him, a sign of self-control, that it would show just how serious he was about fucking Jason. (It helped that all the `visiting' tops completely ignored his dick, not least as he was always forced to wear a jock to hide it).

All of this was backed-up by regular emission checks: ultra-violet lights on his bed clothes in the mornings. Anything on his sheets was a black mark and a deserved punishment (although cum leakage from his oozing hole must have been the culprit more often than not, but who was quibbling? The subject wasn't smart enough to put two and two together).

Threats of chastity aside - we still wanted his plump and fat schlong on humiliating display - Jason's favourite punishments become cycles of harsh nipple clamps and intense tit pumping. Hours of tweaking followed by hours of engorgement. It was then reinforced through highly conspicuous public displays, the subject forced to wear only the tightest of t-shirts out and about. Or sent to the gym in a shredder so any of the queens could grab a handful of his pecs - it's a miracle his tits didn't start squirting milk, they got that big.

Once again, you may be wondering why the boy didn't simply up sticks and run. His parents' home was still available, right? Well, Jason kept the compliments and affection coming, although by now they were always sexual in nature:

Wow, you took my dick like a pro tonight...' Fucking hell, boy. Your bubble butt looks so great...' `Jeez, I bet loads of bitches would love to have a dick as big as yours...'

And yet, somehow, each compliment was always butt-ended by something that kept the boy right on edge:

...only a real slut could get fucked that well.' ...going to turn a lot of heads, you must love everyone knowing what you are.' `...but my meat will always have you beat.'

Somehow, with all that, the talk of him fucking Jason diminished with each passing day and that's when we sped up the program. The pool of men got dramatically bigger, so much so that the boy only had time for fucking and exercising, forgetting all attempts at school work.

If he ever protested, Jason simply put it in context. `If you really loved me then you'd be fucked 10 times a day, no complaints'. The subject was too young, too inexperienced to complain. If he whined, then Jason simply denied him his cunt-slayer. No matter how many strangers were called in to tap that hole, my assistant was still the prime pump. Denied for too long, the subject would always do virtually anything to get it back. Besides, the more often he was fucked the sooner he'd get to fuck Jason, right? Anything to speed up his training.

By now, I was happy to report to our client that the subject's hole was undeniably being transformed. It was no longer a boyhole, despite his young age. No, now it had seen serious work and was beginning to suffer.

That meant we went to the next stage: Jason complaining that the boy simply wasn't exciting him anymore. That he was a boring shag and a waste of time. Maybe he was no longer worth having around? As you can imagine, the words shocked the boy. Desperate for hope, he jumped to the obvious answer: surely now was the time for him to fuck Jason. Wouldn't that keep it exciting?

Woah!' answered the top swiftly. You're nowhere near ready for that... right now I'm not even sure we'll be able to even complete your training. It's never going to happen if you don't keep me excited. What else do you have, boy? What's your big idea?'

It was said with such seriousness that the boy honestly worried whether the last 6 months had been for nothing. The humiliation, the ass-leakage, the fuck-trains? The anguish pushed him further than he ever would have expected and he desperately wracked his brain. The only thing that came to his mind? Double penetration.

(Maybe it helped that for the last few days Jason had repeatedly been playing DP porn in the background whilst they fucked, who knows?)

His suggestion was rewarded with an evil grin from Jason. `Wow, you really must want to be fucked up, only real pussies can do that.'

Do you think the subject stopped to consider the meaning of those words, realising that the point of turning back had long since passed? Of course, he tried to burble no, that's not what he meant at all, he was only responding to Jason's desires but Jason was far too fast for the subject to keep up with. `We'll do it tonight then. I'll ask Jethro over - you know, the black guy with the 3 inch thick gut-buster you thought was too wide for you? He'll go well with my cock, no?'

So that's how his first DP happened. As Jethro's monstrous shaft squeezed in alongside Jason's girth you wouldn't have thought it was possible - the subject's noise spoke to that. However, the determination of the top team put paid to that: they were there with purpose and weren't going to relent. It was the stretch... or the stretch. Simply doing nothing didn't come into it.

It was around now that the subject's hole started becoming a sensitive issue. The number of shags had gone up so much that the boy was now being fucked pretty much non-stop. (Who cares about school work, grades and athletic scholarships?!). That meant his pussy started taking on a rather well-used appearance. So much so that Jason had taken to warning guys in advance how mashed up it was.

As the tops streamed out of his bedroom non-stop. Jason casually mentioned he'd started getting some complaints. He did it when the subject was most vulnerable -my assistant had just steam-piled the boy's arse and was now lovingly being spooned - when he said those crushing words. Of course, the boy tried to deny it, saying it wasn't his fault. How could he be loose? Jason soon scotched that though. It was the subject's fault for wanting dick so much. He'd still be tight if he wasn't putting out all the time...

That's when he landed the hammer blow, that the subject was going to have to try so much harder to be tight. If he didn't, no-one was going to want him. And all this training would be for nothing...

Of course, the deeply confused boy almost spun out of control. Hadn't Jason wanted him to be fucked this much? Or did his own natural proclivities mean he wanted to get fucked? He was bi after all? What he didn't realise was that he was on such an extreme diet of dick, cum and porn that he couldn't help but be deeply confused.

It was then Jason started casually leaving dildos and butt plugs around the apartment. Not obviously, more `open this cupboard and watch a toy fall out' style. This was difficult for the boy to understand, not least as he was still a stranger to toys, but it all came clear when he overheard a talk between Jason and another top.

It was deliberately staged. How the top was struggling to get enjoyment out one of his regular fuck-buds as his hole was no longer tight. In return, Jason suggested keeping him plugged between shags as that was `well-known' to help regain lost clutch. The top saying he'd be sure to try it out otherwise he was finished and done with his boy...

Complete bollocks of course, this was just one more step on his path to anal-destruction. However, the subject didn't know that and soon he was trying one of the many plugs that were readily on hand. He had to do it as his problem was very real. Firstly, he wanted to be tight, he wanted to be a good fuck. And yet - secondly - he couldn't hold back from realising just how big his hole was getting. In fact, he loved the feeling of being slack and loose back there. It was both a pleasure and shame he couldn't quantify. That's why that plug felt so good going in and out of his hole, working it open--

`Fuck, you must be a real slut if you want your hole to be that big' Jason exclaimed, catching boy right in the act. He went deep red in shock and surprise. And horror. What had he become? This wasn't him, surely?

My assistant was quick to move in and make the most of the moment, just like he'd been expecting it. He immediately made a phone call to a sex-shop owned by a friend - not one of those high-street affairs though, no, this was an underground affair for only the most fucked up of kinksters. The subject could only listen in, no matter how much he tried to pull the phone out of Jason's hands and stop the conversation.

`Yeah, I've got an emergency, can you close the store for a dildo fitting?'

`Oh sure, I know you make more money if you let people watch, but the boy's shy... okay, maybe just four guys then.'

`The problem? I've just caught him plugging his arse... I can only imagine he was trying to get my attention.'

`Yeah, a real cry for help, he wants his hole to be bigger.'

`Thanks, make sure you've got a good line up ready, all the big boy toys...'

`Oh, largest he's taken is Jethro and me - yeah, at the same time.'

`I know, the boy gobbled us real good, so better get those ones you keep under the counter ready and waiting.'

`Yeah, I know you haven't been able to sell them as they're too big, but I'm telling you the boy's got real ambition.'

Well, I don't need to expand upon their visit to the showroom. How the subject was made to parade in front of a gallery of perverts. How he was forced to sit upon on a massive range of gigantic butt plugs, each one blanching his anal ring more and more. How if he couldn't slide down on the `toy' the audience would lend a hand to push him down and make it fit. Even given his experience, everything was a real stretch. He didn't leave the store with a single toy that wasn't a real boy-reamer.

All of this fucked with the boy's head - as intended - not least as he was now expected to keep up a rigorous dildo stretching program alongside his fuck duties. After all, he had to make sure he got the most out of his expensive purchases - it had all come out of his allowance.

The desire to prove himself kept him going, meaning the subject would never be able to escape his destiny (paid for by his benefactor of course). And so that's exactly how the subject ended up down the docks on a humid night in September, ready for the big moment, the one we'd been building up to for so long. It was the final degradation, something so important that it needed to be treated as such. Celebrated and commemorated for all time.

Ruined (v)

The closer the big event came - the pinnacle of anal ruin - the more Jason teased it out. For a while he'd been subtly holding back from fucking the boy (even though the trains kept on coming), telling the boy not to worry, that he had something real special planned. Something the boy had been waiting on for a long time.

Of course, the subject could only dare to imagine that his big moment had finally come, he was now qualified' and experienced' enough to be able to fuck Jason. Surely he'd taken enough dick that now the moment was here? Not least that he was now a slip-and-slide back there - any more dick pile-ups and he'd be permanently spent.

Oh, how little he knew.

Jason had given the boy an outfit to wear, one that the subject had taken a single look at and said, really? My assistant told the boy to trust him, he wanted to hot, right?

I'd had a hand in putting it together and I think we'd hit a home run. Well-worn work boots, second hand shorts (that were so tight around the arse and crotch faded that they can have only previously belonged to a deeply committed dick-slut), a heavy cock ring (got to make the most of that big dick humiliation!) and a slutty high-rise t-shirt. Oh, and a red and black leather bicep band to complete the full picture. On the right side of course (though I'm not sure the subject had picked up on that code yet...).

As he stood on the quayside, the boy looked an absolute vision. I should know, I've seen the video. Was it wrong that the docks were kitted out with a hidden, documentary-grade film-crew? Not when the client was paying for it, no...

Of course, the subject was confused as to why he was down the docks at all. My assistant had merely said it would create a hot scene, something different, new and exciting. However, Jason did say it might be more hands-on than the bottom was used to... something that was reflected in the boy's t-shirt. Did he know that under the harsh orange, sodium lights it was lit up with a message he hadn't seen when he'd put the top on? The words `Fist Hole' on his back and an arrow pointing down to his bubble butt? It couldn't be missed.

And it wasn't.

Picture the scene. Jason in jeans and a cropped high-viz vest, confident and secure in himself. The short, muscular jock was sweating and looked a complete slut. A row of brick warehouses on one side, with deep, dark and oily water to the other. The approaching sound of footsteps on cobblestones. The subject expecting to finally fuck Jason, but oh, no...

He was here for his cunt to be blown out, once and for all. Everything had built up to this defining moment. As the man approached, Jason whispered to the silent boy just how happy he was that he would do this for him. That it really would show his love and affectation... in the video footage I could see a wave of self-doubt and trepidation come over the bottom. What exactly did Jason mean? He didn't have time to work it out before the deckhand (or, sailor, grease monkey, ffuckstud - whatever you want to call him) arrived. By chance, of course... ahem.

He was a real bruiser - tall, brutish, a man of the world. Muscles straining to escape his striped top and denim overalls. A dark red hankie in his back pocket topped off by a threateningly big dick-bulge. And those calloused hands that would be a rough ride for even the most experienced fist-sluts (one of the many reasons we'd selected him).

Of course, by now the subject was well-used to being whored out but even so he was surprised at the negotiation going on in front of him. He was now damp, getting cold and desperate to go home. This deal though? Well, it was just fucked!

Is he for real?' asked the sailor, intently. He looks pretty young and tight... and I have very big hands. You sure he can take it?' he asked, holding up his fists. As big as fucking prime hams.

'Don't worry' replied Jason. `He's hungry for it, hasn't been able to talk about anything else for months. He wants his cunt to be totally wrecked.'

Of course, the subject had said nothing of the kind. However, in his innocence and youth nothing had prepared him for what was being discussed. When the realisation finally hit - when he fully worked it out - he exclaimed out loud. `Wait, he wants to fist me? I thought I was going to fuck you?'

`Oh, boy oh boy, that ship sailed a long time ago. You think I'm going to let a bottom whore like you fuck my prime ass?' laughed Jason.

But please, you can't be serious. I don't want to be fisted. Fuck me! Fuck me as much as you want--

`--How can you possibly think I want to fuck your slack pussy again. You're nothing but an open slot back there. Oh please! Don't look so shocked. If you hadn't wanted to take so much dick in the first place then we wouldn't be here now. But the truth is all you're good for now is fist. You've done it to yourself - you've made yourself so loose and wasted that cock simply isn't an option anymore.

Don't deny it, you wouldn't have got fucked by that many guys if you didn't really want to be wrecked. Don't embarrass me, boy. I know just how much you want it! I thought about taking your fist cherry myself but I knew it would be way more exciting to have someone else take you over the threshold of being a real adult. After all, anything else would be too easy, right?'

The Nordic top then led the subject away, the bottom too stunned to resist. As they approached the gangplank of the sailor's ship - where else would this scene go down? - the boy took one last look back at Jason. A glance that spoke volumes. How could you do this to me? Of course, my assistant was following a few steps behind. There was no way he wasn't going to be involved in this.

The trio headed down through a series of narrow gangways and down steep metal stairs into the bowels of the ship. Thick pipes and cables stretched above their heads, with dials, gauges and electrical junction boxes passing their sides. The corridors got more and more hot and claustrophobic as they descended. It was an alien and intimidating environment to the subject, made worse by the admiring glances from scores of sweaty and oily sailors they bumped against on the way. `Later, later' the top kept on saying over the sound of wolf whistles.

Eventually they reached their destination. Engine compartment FF/34/2B. More colloquially known as the `lube cabin' to the ship's engineers. It was dark, confined and smelt of grease. Oh, and those pipes running across the ceiling? Well, from those the mechanics had found a better purpose: hanging a very well-used sling that dominated the small room.

As soon as the subject was bundled over the threshold - past the watertight hatch with the locking wheels - the sailor got to work. He couldn't keep himself off the boy, ravishing him with both his hands and mouth. As he kissed and slathered his tongue over the subject, the sailor cast aside his striped vest to reveal a Viking chest underneath. Big, broad, powerful. And fucking hot - he was still wearing his denim overalls which amazingly accentuated his muscles and sheer size.

And the difference between him and the bottom.

In fact, all the boy's clothes were soon ripped off - tight shorts and all - and he was pushed back into the sling.

I'm sure you can imagine exactly what this looks like. The smell, the taste in the air. Precum, sweat and industrial lubricant. And the anticipation... but in this moment it's worth reminding ourselves of just how far we'd come.

We had taken a big-dicked jock - someone who should have rightly been proud of the size of their junk - and cut him down to size. That his dick was unimportant and it was only the size of his cunt that mattered. We had made it BIG through repeated applications of the denial of love and the full force of the double power team of dick and dildo. He was entering adulthood barely able to hold it all in. And now... he was going to take his first fist. Fists!

Pretty magnificent, right?

Jason helped the subject get into the sling, by which I mean securing the four-point leather restraints around the boy so he couldn't escape. When my assistant replayed it all back he couldn't deny how insanely hot it was. (Hmm, maybe he should do a commentary track for the accompanying DVD?) The industrial setting, the sound of the engine and generators in the background. The darkness, the smell, the muscular and greasy top. So authentic and dangerous. Hell, I think Jason would have loved to have been in the sling himself!

However, that's when our sailor - let's call him Jarvik - went to work.

He popped open a gelatinous tub of lube, dipped one of his massive paws in and slathered his hands with the thick grease. You could tell this was a move he'd done many times before. After all, what's the difference between greasing a flywheel and punching a pussy out?

I knew the subject would be feeling the difference though. Cock can't compare to the feeling of thick, calloused fingers wetting your trench and infiltrating your hole. Jarvik's hands were so big it didn't matter one bit just how hung the guys that had gone before had been. Or the toys he'd taken. Even the giant double hadn't truly prepared him for this moment.

Jarvik quickly started to push the boundaries of the bottom's pussy, making him scared for his future. The top was determined to go deep, the thick lubricant soon warming up and becoming slick. All the while the subject struggled, feeling the foreignness of the fingers in his arse but also the amazing stretch they gave...

It took a long while, every millimetre inwards a struggle, but the sailor soon pushed through the subject's sphincter. Thank god the moment was captured forever on HD as it deserved to be shared and enjoyed forever.

`Goddamn this is some really talented pussy, I've never gotten into a cunt so fucking fast.' he cried.

Of course, I - and Jarvik and anybody viewing - knew this was a complete lie. His entry had been a brilliant struggle, a sign of his skill and experienced determination. No-one could take his fists fast. However, the subject didn't need to know that. He just needed to feel it was inevitable. That it was his destiny and he was born to it.

Of course, Jason was there to mop the boy's brow. To tell him how much he loved him, how proud he was. Oh, and just hungry his pussy must be to have gotten this far. Oh, and that it would never be the same again. Fucked out and fucked up! I could see on the video the bottom's reaction. Wait? What exactly did that mean?

Jarvik didn't give the bottom a moment longer to find out. Unfortunately, the moment when the walls of the bottom's pussy were broached forever by the top's big mitts is indescribable. All I can say is that one of Jarvik's giant fists plunged inside with an accompanying squeal, animalistic cry and sigh of relief. And then intense moans as the top's hand starting rotating inside its new home. These were new and unfamiliar sensations for the subject but evidently they gave so much pleasure. Addictive, even.

By now Jason had gone from mopping the bottom's brow to moving round to where the action was happening. To see the subject's hole grotesquely stretched around the Viking's thick wrists. How even the top's slightest rotation could send waves of pleasure - and pain? - through the bottom. Who - let's be honest - seemed to be getting totally lost in himself.

It was then that Jason remembered himself. This wouldn't do at all! He whispered in the top's ear and reminded him of the previously arranged deal, of the money at stake. That Jarvik wouldn't get paid unless the bottom was left a gaping, sodden mess. Full punches and at least three other deckhands or nothing!

The top went back to work with a new determination and the subject absolutely felt it, that's for sure. He even had the temerity to start complaining. The cheek!

Jason knew exactly how to handle it. As the top smoothly pile drove the hole - in and out - my assistant reinforced every stroke. No matter how savage. Stop whining' he said. Come on, you wouldn't be able to take this unless you weren't a real cunt already...'

Amazingly, that was the first time Jason had ever used that term with the subject. The word had all the power to shock, especially for someone so young. Someone who thought they were still a jock and not what we had laboured so hard to create. A pussy, a trench, a cunt.

Jason calmed the boy again. As Jarvik's fists trammelled, my assistant took control. Because by now it wasn't about the physical, it was about mental degradation.

`Don't be surprised boy. A cunt is what you've become, that's what you wanted, right? From the first moment we met I knew this is what you needed. To be wrecked, ruined and turned out as a pussy forever'.

As the boy writhed - either from the effect of Jarvik's fists or Jason's words - it was difficult to know who was having more effect.

`No-one is going to want you from now on. I mean, if you could see your twat now you'd be shocked. It's a wreck! Your ring has been destroyed, it's fucking defenceless. And I swear your inner ass flesh is coming out of your hole with every punch. I reckon your rectum must be turned almost inside out. Hell, once you're done here I bet not even my big cock would touch the sides of your hole!'

Jason was glad to report that Jarvik joined in the verbal humiliation. He told the bottom that there wasn't much clutch left (ignoring that the subject was actually still pretty tight, something to be fixed as the months went on) and that surely the boy couldn't take his fists unless he really, really wanted it. Of course, the helping hand of the poppers and drugs were completely ignored...

Jarvik then took it up a gear. Could I do this--' full punch --unless you really wanted it?! In fact, I can tell you're enjoying this so much that I should get some friends to join in. They like fresh pussy!'

By the end of the night the subject's pussy was anything but fresh. Split open, ravaged beyond recovery or repair. In the end five deck hands had joined in the fun and they had really gone to town. I don't even think they were all gay, but that didn't seem to hold them back. In fact, if anything it made them more brutal. After all, faggots don't complain, right?

Of course, Jason joined in the action. How could you possibly hold back from a juicy, ravaged pussy that was blown out to fuck and so inviting? Hell, at one moment I think he even managed to slide one of his hands in alongside Jarvik's to give the boy his first double. Now that's commitment!

Soon after, every man their turn unloading in the boyhole, by now so ravaged that not a single load of spunk was kept from pouring right back out. It was then that my assistant had to leave. The ship was about to sail, a tramp-steamer plying the routes down the south coast. Jason looked deep in the bitch's eyes and told him they were done, finished, finito, over.

As you can well imagine, the subject couldn't quite believe it. The months of fucks, the insane cum consumption, the fat inches of dick, the humiliating clothes... everything flashed in front of his eyes.

`Yeah, that's right, I never wanted you to fuck me... you were just a shag to me, never a boyfriend. Oh, but imagine getting a new one with that hanging between your legs.' Saggy pussy-lips - Jarvik ready to pick up punching duty again - had been unavoidable. Jesus, what had he become?! Jason laughed and left.

All those ship hands and one on-board pussy? Well... by the voyage's end it was inevitable.

A perfectly turned out cunt, certifiably anally ruined.

Ruined (vi)

After the subject got back from his long voyage we did - of course - keep him under surveillance. We needed to know just how fucked up he was to prove we'd done our job.

Once again, we were the ones holding all the cards: we knew the path he'd follow and we were ready. Personally, I think we did him a great favour in providing him with a studio apartment on his return. Sure, it gave him rent free living for a year, but it also returned all the cunt stretchers and clothes he must have missed on his trip. (After all, who needs dildos on-board when there's a constant supply of fist? And who needs to cover up when you're not allowed to leave a hot, sweaty and oily engine room?) He greeted his old toys and slut-wear as long-lost friends. Who would have thought the sight of a 13" gut-buster and a `plough my pussy' crop-top would have sparked such emotions?

However, none of this lent him any favours. Even if he'd tried to go straight we'd made temptation unavoidable: wall-to-wall dildos, screens programmed with non-stop porn and constantly replenished vats of lube and supplies. As a fully converted pussy he couldn't stop himself, however, no matter how much he tried to satisfy his hole by bouncing up and down, a big part of him yearned for more.

At first he tried to fix that ache by buying even more extravagantly sized toys, although the only work he could get was as a short-order chef so he wasn't exactly flush with cash. At the end of each week he was left with a surfeit of grease, a shortage of dollars and an empty heart. Never would he have imagined he'd miss his previous life - the non-stop cock, fuck trains from complete strangers and the SS Bateman's roving deckhands. No matter how hard he tried to recreate that level of action, even at sleazy trucker rest stops and dirty sex clubs, it proved to be impossible.

Of course by now the subject knew this was all seriously fucked up and that he couldn't meet his needs on his own. What he needed was help, he needed love. Love that Jason had cruelly snatched away and now needed to be replaced. However, surely his carnal desires would present a problem on the regular dating scene?

He started by hiding it. After all, he was still a handsome and muscular young man, even if his eyes were a bit jaded. His first step was creating an eye-catching profile, although even this presented him with new problems. What photos to use?

He had no trouble taking some good naked selfies, though he subconsciously chose most of his stills from the rear rather than the front. To be honest, his dick had rather betrayed him of late. After months of his hole being used so much he was now conditioned to only get hard when being fucked or fisted. Without something in his hole he could barely get an erection to masturbate.

However, selecting the right naked photos wasn't the main issue. No, normal' profile pics were even more challenging. The only clothes he had were his out and proud bottom gear, way too extreme to wear in a dating app photo. A crop with 24hr service at rear'? Even the more civilised stuff we'd given him was right on the edge. Chinos cut to be skin tight across his big arse and cock (still thick and meaty, even if permanently flaccid). Polo shorts that looked heteronormative but had a big, spurting penis prominently embroidered as a logo.

He did the best with what he had though and, to be fair, he did okay. His profile caught a fair amount of attention and he could just about sustain a conversation to get a first date. However, in real life things quickly dropped off. We had been so successful at replacing his interests and hobbies with sex and deviancy that he no longer knew about pop culture or how the SeaHawks were doing. No, the only things he had real knowledge of was sex, and he soon found out that asking what your date's favourite dildo brand was didn't get you very far. Or what their preferred lube was for a really long session? Or how they kept their butt crack tidy when they removed a stopper plug at the end of a long day?

If - miraculously - he managed to keep quiet enough to not turn a guy away the sex part was impossible. The guys he attracted simply weren't ready for what lay between his legs or his rapacious hunger. His initial kissing and body mauling may have been fine for some but he was clearly cock obsessed. He went for the prize all the time, a pace that was too fast for most, not least when his eyes deflated at the size of regular guys. Maybe that reminded him of someone...?

Then there was his hole. If a top was able to keep up with his passion they quickly turned away and ran in fright. Some stopped long enough to say `that's some seriously fucked up shit', but most just left in shock. Maybe it didn't help that his pussylips were often still puffy from the inevitable toy stretching he'd done before the date. Or that fresh cum might be running down his legs from a pre-date visit to a trucker stop?

Either way, none of his dates went anywhere fast and he was on a permanent cycle of flirt, meet and ghost.

This made him change tactics. Surely if someone loved him - and he loved them back - then they could get round his physical specifications and requirements? Or at least make them an advantage.

That meant casting the net wider. Well, actually, narrowing it down. He went from generic dating apps to far more specific ones. Places where his hole wouldn't seem out of place and actually might be prized. Kink, leather, rubber, the fisting community...

However, this new direction actually made it tougher for him. Instead of spending his spare cash on new toys he now had to save up for some decent gear so he'd fit in. That took a while - so long that he almost wore out some of his favourite dildos, reducing them to just a stub. (I'm joking of course, you'd really have to work a silicone toy to wear it down, no-one could be that arse-hungry, right?)

Finally - after a long time of saving and self-denial - he had just enough gear assembled to count. A leather jock, a rubber wrestling suit (chaps cut of course), and a secondhand pair of work boots. He had no trouble at all taking some fetish photos, even feeling his dick (just) slightly swell as he snapped. Man, did he look hot! It made him remember how he'd felt when he went out on the field as the team's top jock. Cocky and confident.

He uploaded his pictures to Recon and his fresh-faced profile attracted a lot of attention - not least as he said he was 100% bottom - why fight it now? His dreams of being a top had long since gone. However, his biggest problem was that he was looking for love not sex. Of course, he pursued every opportunity he could - he needed the action - but it didn't help. In fact, before even getting a chance to take the first step to making things regular, many guys withdrew. Most said they loved fisting but `wouldn't know what to do with a hole that big'.

As you can imagine, this was all insanely discouraging for the subject but I'm pleased to report he managed to keep his energy (if not his pecker) up. He kept on trawling the apps and going to bars, constantly searching.

That's when we got our bonus paid, that we knew we'd completed our mission. We told our client - the family friend, the diabolical one who had set this whole chain in motion - where the subject could be found. Friday night, a sleazy bar in the gay district, waiting - hoping - to be picked up.

Afterwards, I was pleasantly surprised to see the fit Dad-bod of our client. Hey, I did say our surveillance was good, right? He was firm, handsome and in great shape - he could have picked-up anyone. I had no doubt it was easy for him to get the subject's attention, though I'm sure the boy must have been shocked by seeing a face from his past in a leather bar. However, his desire for sex - and companionship - meant he was soon led back to our client's motel.

Here's where I have to switch to his words, even if they are biased:

`Fuck me! When I said I wanted him anally ruined I didn't know you'd go so fucking far - I mean, that's some fucked-up twisted shit! I thought he was just going to be loosened up, not totally trashed.

I got my dick out and the boy practically begged me to fuck him. Not so cocky now, eh? He could tell how crazy the sight of his slack and puffy hole was making me, so I laughed. How could he be that desperate? Surely loads of guys must want him? A hot jock like him? Everyone must want to be his boyfriend?

Fuck! His eyes pricking with tears told me all I needed to know! I slammed my dick into that trench as hard as I could, but even then I struggled to feel it. Hell, I might as well have been fucking air, or loose velvet at the very least. He didn't clench, resist or pushback - hell, I'm not sure he's even capable of that. It didn't take long before the cum was drained from my balls - I unloaded as deep as I could but it sluiced right back out. So sick.

Christ, I've never seen anyone so fucked up. Thank you, the little fucker deserves it - no way he's going to find a boyfriend now!'

More than a little bit vindictive for a single rejected shag... but ahem to that.

Of course, that's not where our story ends. Whilst our client extolled a job well done, the subject was left utterly deflated. He'd been pushed out on the motel doorstep, not allowed to shower and drenched in ribbons of cum, entirely put in his place. He'd lost his clutch, he'd been used by a family friend (god, what if that got back to his parents?!) and now he was totally alone. He'd never find love or succour.

He wandered the sidewalks, desolate, making his way home through the rough end of town. Intermittent street lights, deserted car lots, graffiti, abandoned convenience stores, decay. Only the most run-down businesses with the most dedicated of customers could possibly survive in this environment.

That's when the pavement opened up onto the parking lot of the meanest leather bar in the entire county. Out here in no-town the resident biker's could get away with anything they wanted, free from oversight or custodial sanction. Their hogs could be modified, guns could be carried, pigs could be pigs and anything could go down.

Is it any wonder the subject caught Lance's attention? The top may have been deep in conversation with his leather-clad hog-buddies, the smell of gasoline in the air and backdropped by flickering neon, but he was ever watchful for his next target. The next man to own and destroy.

Lance was one of those guys who'd grown up with leather, male-pussy and motorbikes since the womb. Abandoned by his mother and taken in by his local chapter of Hells Angels, he'd been submerged in raw, brutal, take no prisoners sex since before his balls had dropped. Now he never took no for an answer.

Our subject tried to walk on by - he had no desire to be manhandled after the humiliation of his previous shag - but it was too late, he'd been noticed. In fact, the experienced top saw a quality he always appreciated. He recognised it by a boy's gait, a body trying to hold it all in, a body fearing that if it sneezed it might prolapse at any moment.

For many that would signal ruined goods, but for Lance it was a sign of quality. In fact, there was nothing he liked more than pre-owned pussy. Not for him the challenge of opening a novice or having to adjust to the speed of a virgin hole. No, he was only interested in men who could take it all. Then he'd surprise them with just how much further they could go before being truly spent. Even the biggest holes had no conception of just how low they could go.

His commanding voice cut right across the lot. 'Pussy. Come here.' The subject heard it and had no doubt it was directed at him. Even in his defiled state how could he possibly refuse? He knew authority when it spoke and he also recognised what he'd been looking for. A confident, dominant man. Stern features, handlebar moustache the colour of molasses, worn leather that showed real experience, A red bandana on his active side. The subject was scared but helplessly drawn in.

Lance had recognised real potential and didn't want to let this moment pass. This wasn't a time to be haughty - even given jeers from his fellow gang members - and he virtually swept the subject off his feet. Literally. He meshed his cigar smoke into the boy's mouth and firmly said he was sure they'd have a lot of fun together...

Some things click, evidently this one did.

Our subject spent the next 12 hours strapped to a sling in a run-down garage, the smell of punk, gasoline and machinery heavy in the air. Lance was determined to road-test his new acquisition and find out just how capable it was. Thankfully (by now) it was a hole that could give and give. No matter how hard he pushed, the subject lapped it up.

The top wasn't deterred by an easy pussy though - where others would have given up he preserved. He was on a life mission to find the one true hole that would be his life's work and he sensed this boy had it in him. He wiped the subject down, removed as much lube as he could and then pulled on a pair of insanely thick industrial rubber gloves over his big maws. He was determined the boy would really feel it...

I'm very proud to report the boy met the grade. No matter how big a hole, if it's a cunt it can always be expanded, right? One giant hand after another, then one in and the other sliding on top, permanently changing this cunt to double capacity. Give Lance enough time and the subject would gain double-punch status too...

Soon after our subject dropped out of view and everything we heard was hearsay. However, a big question remains to be asked. Had we really done our job if Lance had taken the boy under his wing? Our measure of success had always been `anally ruined for any future boyfriend'. Surely we'd failed if he was now in another man's stable?

Fuck no! We had absolutely done our job.

By any measure they weren't a couple. Surely if you rent your partner out every night to any new fist going then you're not boyfriends at all? More like owner and slave. Although that didn't stop Lance from having a go every morning and marvelling at the fresh destruction he got to witness on a daily basis. He'd gotten a previous boy to the triple but he was determined to get this one to the quadruple. Fuck it, the subject deserved it!

I'd say that's a happy ending for everyone.

Next: #7 - a serious bet between two professionals